Chapter Text
Splinter, April, and Casey sat behind some crates roughly two hundred yards or so from the Foot Clan warehouse. Soldiers in snow gear and Foot Clan headbands or Foot Shack beanies mingled around, some moving crates, some clearly posted as guards. Splinter spotted an Elite Guard amongst the Foot Soldiers giving out orders.
“This is definitely the one.” April nodded, very pleased with herself for having remembered the location. The others nodded too and hummed in agreement.
“No kiddin’, this place is crawling with Foot guys.” Casey said, furrowing his brow. “How’re we gonna do this?”
“I…had a few ideas.” Splinter began. “If I create a distraction for the Elite Guards, you two may be able to sneak in. I do not know where they are being held, but I believe you can find them given enough time.”
“Sounds good to me.” Casey smiled.
“What kind of distraction are you imagining?” April asked.
“The kind they will not be able to resist.” He said, pulling out his phone and dialing Leo's cell. He pressed the call button, but a message appeared on the tiny screen. “‘No reception?” He scoffed.But then a realization hit him; did this have anything to do with his sons going topside? The thought made his gut turn worriedly. Had it really been his broken phone that caused all of this?
“Here, take mine.” April offered. The rat man took her phone and dialed his son again. This time, the call began going through.
“Why don’t you just kill them already!?” The Foot Clan boy with the spiky black hair shouted at one of the Elite Guards. The Guard, a tall, Japanese man with sharp, cold eyes and a scar slashed across his face scoffed, turning and glaring at the boy. A crowd was beginning to form around the fight that was evolving.
“Are you stupid, child?” He asked in a deep and chilling voice. “They are worth more alive than dead, that is why. I assumed you would understand such a basic concept in hostage scenarios.”
“Hostages!? They’re the targets! They’ve-”
“It doesn’t matter what they've done!” The Elite Guard interrupted. “Do you not get it? They are not the target of our mission, they are tools for us to use to get to our actual mission: catching Hamato Yoshi.” The Guard hissed.
“T-tools!? They- but…” The teen stuttered. Another guard turned and looked at the boy.
“Oh, that is where I have seen you. You were one of the first to encounter the turtles.” He spoke, his voice not quite as deep and chilling as the other guard, but there was a certain mockingness about it. “I think the child wants revenge.” He smiled cruelly, his tone condescending and almost infantilizing.
The other guards laughed a bit and the boy’s face turned red with embarrassment and anger.
“Listen child.” The guard with the scar said, slightly bending down to mock the boy’s height. “I do not know how they do things in the states, but I am getting fed up with your attitude. You are not my peer, you are a subordinate, which means I will make the plans, and you will follow them or face punishment. If for some reason I desire your opinion on something I will ask for it. In the meantime though, I suggest you shut your mouth while I am still willing to forgive your insubordination.”
“But-” The Elite Guard slapped the boy. The crowd gasped and flinched, it looked like it seriously hurt.
“People die, child! That is how the world works, that is the life you were born into! Wake up from your dreams of fighting for justice or whatever it is you perceive this to be about before your attitude gets you killed! Because there is one thing I can guarantee…” He growled. “...and that is that Master Shredder does not put up with disobedience.” There was a sincerity in the guard’s last words that made the scar on his face stand out to the boy.
He could see in the man's eyes, this was not a threat, it was a warning from someone who had to learn the hard way. He felt a shiver run down his spine. His anger did not disappear, but he swallowed it, knowing there was no winning this fight. He felt he was humiliated enough now as it was.
“Fine.” He muttered.
“Excuse me?” The guard demanded.
“Yes, sir! Please… forgive me.” The boy bowed stiffly as he was taught to do. The guards said something to each other in Japanese, most likely complaining about kids these days. They appeared to accept the apology, turning and walking away, leaving the boy holding his burning cheek. With the fight dispersed, the murmuring crowd began doing so as well.
The scarred Elite Guard approached a nearby table, joining four more guards standing around it. The table was covered with various papers, guns, ammunition, and boxes–one of which contained the items confiscated from the turtles.
“There is no respect from these American Foot Soldiers. It’s been months since we got here and they still behave like children who have never been told no.” The Guardsman complained, speaking in Japanese.
“Tell me about it.” One of the other guards said, rolling his eyes with crossed arms. The guard with the scar sighed.
“When is Master Shredder supposed to arrive?” He asked.
“I believe we still have perhaps a half hour or so. We received a call that he will be delayed because of some issues with traffic.”
“At this hour of night?”
“It’s a weekend I suppose. There could be an accident on the bridge.”
“I believe it; the people in this city drive like maniacs.”
Suddenly an 8-bit tune began playing from the box of the turtles’ belongings. The guard closest to it–a middle aged Japanese man with a well-grown out mustache –rifled through the box.
“What? What is this thing?” He pulled out Leo’s phone which was ringing.
“It’s a phone, old man. You flip it open.” One of the younger guards explained jokingly and there were some snickers. The guard with the mustache opened the phone and looked over the buttons and saw one labeled with the letters “SND” in green and clicked it. Green was usually good. The Guard held the phone to his ear.
“Hello? Who is this?” He asked in English.
“Oginome-San, long time no see.” A voice answered. It was a bit older sounding now, and the accent was far thinner than it once was, but the guard recognized the voice from long ago. He knew who was calling.
“Hamato Yoshi!”
“I see you remember me too.”
“It is Hamato Yoshi!” The Guard called to the others and put the phone on speaker mode. Foot Clan members heard and began subtly but not so subtly trying to listen in.
“Let us get down to business, yes?” Splinter lowered his spyglass and sat back. It was strange talking to someone he had known, he felt himself taken back to the time long ago when he was human. It felt odd speaking English in this situation for a reason he couldn't explain, but he was more comfortable in English now.
“Where are you?” The guard named Oginome asked, the other guards beginning to arm up themselves and the Foot Soldiers. He heard Splinter chuckle dryly over the phone.
“You know that’s not how this works. I want my sons back, all four of them, alive and unharmed.” Splinter spoke slowly. “I am aware that Saki is still out looking for me and that is why you have captured my sons. You want to lure me out.”
“That is ‘The Shredder’ to you, Hamato.” The guard corrected. Splinter laughed spitefully and ignored the guard.
“I’m willing to make a trade; me for them. That is what you want, is it not?”
As Splinter and the guard began negotiating, Casey and April snuck through the shadows of the shipping yard to get to the back of the warehouse. Around the warehouse was well lit, and guards were posted and patrolling the area.
“The Foot Clan really means business tonight, huh?” Casey commented.
“Yeah, there weren’t even half this many Foot Soldiers when I came here. There weren't any guards either.” April grumbled.
“Guess they know better than to let the guards slack off to hear the juicy gossip.” Casey said in a joking tone. April chuckled.
“It would appear so.”
“What do we do then?” Asked Casey, turning to look at April. She thought for a moment. So many new Foot Clan guys mingling about, she wondered if they would notice an extra.
“Well, they might recognize me, but you’ve never actually had a run in with the Foot Clan, have you?”
“Nope. This’ll be the first time. What’re you gettin’ at?”
“Well, perhaps we can use the far increased number of Foot Soldiers to our advantage. You wouldn’t happen to have a mauve bandana would you?” April asked.
“Uh… I dunno what ‘mauve’ is but I have a kinda reddish one.” Casey said, pulling out an extra bandana from his pocket. It wasn’t the exact right color but it was extremely close.
“Perfect! Okay, put on that one.” She instructed and took off her backpack. She pulled out a small notebook and began scribbling a Foot Clan symbol on the page with a black pen. She tore out the page and ripped the paper carefully into a circle. She held it to Casey’s forehead, it looked pretty crappy, but it looked good enough at a glance.
“Hey! That’s pretty clever! Though, uh… how we gonna stick it on?” Casey asked. April looked back at her bag. She didn’t have any tape, or glue. She tried to think if she had anything sticky.
She joked to herself that this disguise was seriously being thrown together with duct tape and bubble gum. Gum. She had that.
She pulled a stick of gum and offered it to Casey.
“Gum!?”
“SHHHH! It’s the best I’ve got, now chew it up.” April insisted. Casey took it with a smile. There was something he found charming about her resourcefulness.
After a minute or two, April was able to use the gum to stick the Foot Clan logo onto Casey’s bandana. It looked bad, really bad. The longer April stared at it the worse it seemed to get.
The red wasn’t right, there was a faint paisley pattern on it, the logo had rough edges from being torn, and the gum wasn’t totally dried when April stuck it to the Foot Clan logo causing some spit to have soaked into the paper and made the ink bleed slightly. At a glance though, it was pretty convincing and that’s all they needed.
“What about you?” Casey asked.
“Uh… hm.” April noticed a little way off there was a dolly. A smirk crept across her face.
Casey non-chalantly walked into the light of the warehouse wheeling a big crate on a dolly. He had taken his weapons off so he looked a bit less suspicious, and did his best to pretend he was most certainly supposed to be there.
The guards at one of the bay doors gave him a quick glance and then went back to talking about some random tv-show. Casey walked through the giant bay door and into the huge warehouse. There were massive shelves and boxes everywhere, it almost looked like a maze.
Thankfully–as was expected–with the occasion of having captured the turtles and being on the phone with Hamato Yoshi, most of the workers had spontaneously realized that all their work needed to be done within earshot of the Elite Guards on the phone.
There were still a few of the Foot Shack employees going about their business of loading and off-loading trucks and organizing inventory by smuggled contraband and actual shoes, but there were significantly fewer now, making slipping past them far easier. Casey wandered around looking useful for a bit, trying his best to get a grasp of the place. It somehow looked bigger on the inside.
“Look for an office maybe?” Casey heard April’s soft voice from the crate.
“I’m looking.” He muttered trying not to move his lips too much. He continued walking through isles of boxes, passing a few more massive bay doors, and many trucks and other vehicles, before finally coming to some small rooms with metal staircases on the wall’s edge that led up to a catwalk with more rooms. These must have been what April meant by offices.
Two Foot Clan Soldiers stood guard at one of the office doors, both armed with pistols. That was no doubt the room the Turtles were being held in. They almost immediately notice Casey.
“Hey, what’re you doing over here?” One of the guards asked. He was a young Hispanic man with a tattoo of a tiger visible on his head through his extremely close buzzed hair. A thick scarf was wrapped around his neck and tucked into his thick snow jacket.
“Uhhhh…” Casey wasn’t sure what to say. Sweat began forming on his palms and neck. “Well, heh, the uh Elite Guard guys told me to check on you guys, make sure you’s wasn’t getting' too cold, ya’ know? Cause uh…you’re both just standing here. I guess somebody brought some hot chocolate ‘cause it’s cold… if you wanted some.”
The guards narrowed their eyes and looked at each other. They didn’t seem to fully believe Casey.
“Are you gettin’ cold?” The Hispanic man asked in a low voice, turning to the other guard–a young African American man of about the same height, who sported a thick beard and a Foot Shack beanie.
“Dude, you kiddin’? I’m freezing. I haven’t been able to feel my toes for the past hour.” The other guard noted his partner’s poor choice in footwear–sporty sneakers–on such a cold day, but had to agree that his fingers were going numb.
“Same.”
“You think this dude’s legit?”
“Is it bad that I want him to be?”
“Nah, I could really go for a hot cocoa right about now.”
The other guard hummed in agreement. He looked both ways and then motioned for Casey to come closer. He leaned over and whispered.
“A’ight look don’t tell nobody ‘bout this, but can you just watch the door for a few minutes? We’ll be right back, okay? It ain’t hard, just stand here and make sure they’s don't escape. Got it?”
“Got it!” Casey smiled with a thumbs up and a wink.
“Thanks, man!” The guard clapped Casey on the shoulder and handed him his gun. The other guard holstered his gun and ran after his partner. Casey was about to mentally congratulate himself when one of the guards turned around.
“Ey, uh, what’s with the janky-@$s headband by the way?” Casey felt sweat drip down his neck.
“Oh uh… my dog… ate mine and my boss was giving me a lot of crap about not having one, so I’ve been wearing this one I made until they give me a new one.” Casey explained. The guards laughed
“Thinking smart! Hey, I hope you get that new headband soon!” The guard said and walked off. Casey sighed. He genuinely couldn’t believe that any of that had worked.
When the coast was clear, Casey knocked on the crate April was in.
“You’re good now!” Casey said and April popped out of the box.
“That was some pretty good on-the-spot lying! I’ve gotta say, I’m impressed!” April said with a smile. Casey blushed, the flustered feeling from earlier returning.
“Aw, that was nothing, heh…” He said, bashfully scratching the back of his head. April stepped out of the crate.
“Alright, let’s get the turtles out of here.” April said. She attempted to open the door, but it was locked. “Dang it… should have figured.” She grumbled.
“Don’t worry I got this!” Casey proclaimed. He took a step back and kicked the door. With a loud thunk and crack the door opened.
“Casey!!” April whisper shouted.
“SHHH! It’s fine just go in! C’mon!” The two entered the office, there was no furniture or anything, but there were all four turtles huddled and slumped against the wall and curled up beside each other, limp and unconscious.
“Oh my gosh!” April rushed to the boys’ sides and looked them over. They didn't look injured, but they were so incredibly cold. They almost felt dead, but they were breathing, slowly and infrequently, but breathing nonetheless.
“Raph! Hey, wake up buddy!” Casey said trying to shake Raph awake, but it was no use. He was sound asleep. Casey tried a few more times and even tried to shake Leo awake having heard from Raph that he was a light sleeper, but he too remained fast asleep. All of them were completely out.
“What’s wrong with them?” Casey asked. “Are they drugged?”
“I… I don’t think so… but maybe? I guess I don’t really know.” April said with concern. “Regardless of what’s wrong with them though, we have to get them out of here.”
“How are we gonna do that? These guys weigh a small ton each.”
April thought for a moment.
“A truck! Let’s steal a truck!” She stated, snapping her fingers at the realization.
“Wh- seriously!?”
“You got any better ideas, Jones?” April cocked an eyebrow. Casey looked to the side. He did not have any better ideas.
“Damn, guess you got me. Alright I’ll go find a truck to steal.”
“Come out with your hands up and we will release your sons.” Oginome stated.
“No, I want to see my sons first then I will come out and surrender.” Splinter demanded. The Elite Guard looked to his comrades, who silently gestured for a location.
“Tell us your approximate location and then we will get your sons.”
“Not happening.” The other Elite guards held up two fingers.
“Alright, we’ll let you see two of your sons, then you will give us your location, and then you can see the other two, how about that?” There was a pause.
“Hm… fine.”
“Excellent, stay on the phone, we will get your sons.” Oginome stated. He turned to his comrades. “You may get two of them. Get troops mobilized outside to keep them from running and to catch Hamato Yoshi should he try anything.”
“Yes, sir.” One of the Elite Guards turned and saw the two men he had previously chosen to guard the turtles. Except, not only were they not standing at their post, but they were aimlessly wandering around, asking questions to other soldiers.
“You two! What are you doing here!?” He demanded. The two guards turned to their superior like deer in headlights.
“Uh… we-we were just uh-”
“We heard there was hot chocolate?”
“What??” The Elite Guard was so confused, he didn’t even know how to process this conversation. “There is no ‘hot chocolate!’ I did not say you could leave your post!”
“But you sent someone to ask if we were getting cold-”
“You think I would care if you are cold!? You are grown men and warriors of the Foot Clan–gaugh whatever! Who is guarding the turtles now!?”
“The guy who told us about the hot cocoa.” The man with the Tiger tattoo squeaked. The Elite Guards all cursed various Japanese profanities and groaned in a stressed and exacerbated way. The Elite Guard the two had been speaking with grabbed a gun and shouted to two other Elite Guards who followed suit.
They rushed to the offices, spotting one of the delivery trucks parked by the door. The back was wide open, a ginger-haired woman and jet-black haired man standing between the truck and the office door. The man wore the most poorly-made Foot Clan headband the Guard had ever seen, but that observation was quickly dismissed by the fact that the two intruders were dragging the unconscious turtles into the truck.
“Step away from the turtles now!” One of the Elite Guards shouted. Casey dropped Raph and fired his pistol. The shots rang out and the Foot ducked for cover.
“Open fire! But avoid the turtles! We need them alive!” The Guard instructed and bullets rang out through the warehouse. Casey ducked into the trailer. Some bullets pinged off, but some shot through the metal.
Casey’s heart pounded in his ears as he sprang to drag Raph into the truck. He looked up to see April still in the office grabbing Mikey–they were running out of time!
Casey gulped and dove headfirst into the battle zone, rolling and dodging the bullets whizzing through the air in his path. When he reached the office, he shoved April to the ground, pulling her out of the way of the shots ripping through the thin walls above them.
April felt frozen and looked at Casey.
“Quick!! Get in and start the engine as fast as you can!!” He screamed and April scrambled up, running behind the truck as bullets swarmed the air around her. Casey leaned out of the office on his hands and knees and fired a few more shots at the Foot Clan while they were distracted by April.
He heard two men scream in agony and the Elite Guard yelled in Japanese to each other. Shots fired at Casey’s location and he rolled out of the way just as more bullets pierced through the wall and pinged and sparked on the concrete floor.
Casey slung Mikey onto his back–he weighed what felt like a million pounds, but the adrenaline in his veins gave him more strength than he’d ever felt.
He leapt into the truck, more shots fired and a tire burst. The truck lurched as the burst wheel rapidly lost air. April slammed her foot on the gas and the truck zoomed forward.
It swerved and wobbled on the side of its lost tire but was still able to drive for the most part, barreling down the isles of shelves as the occasional Foot Soldier screamed and jumped out of the way. The truck squealed out the nearest bay door, leaving black marks on the ground and a stream of sparks from the rim.
Shots continued to fire from the bay doors, as more followed from the Foot soldiers pursuing the run away truck. None hit their marks, but many were alarmingly close.
Even with the damaged wheel, the truck was far faster than the Foot Clan and made greater and greater distance between them.
Splinter emerged from atop the shipping containers and saw the speeding truck. He hopped onto it as it passed and crawled into the passenger’s seat from the roof. He saw April flooring the gas, her face white and sweaty.
“Did you get them!?” Splinter asked desperately.
“Y-Yes!” April stuttered, “They’re in the back with Casey right now!” Splinter’s face melted with a joy that brought tears to his eyes. He breathed and sighed, saying something in Japanese over and over. April wasn’t sure she had ever seen him or anybody this truly happy before. They had saved his sons, they were going to live. They were all going to be okay now.
She felt herself calm down a bit, the shock of the situation beginning to wear off as her senses returned. She smiled. They had really done it.
The truck screeched around a corner onto the road and the Elite Guards cursed, one throwing his gun on the concrete. His comrades scolded him for damaging his gun in Japanese and he took a deep breath, trying to recompose himself.
“I need three teams of three after them in whatever vehicles we have, now!!” The Elite Guard commanded and the Foot Soldiers quickly scurried off. “Eijiro, can you go with them and be sure this is done in a timely manner?”
“Of course, Sato.” The Elite Guardsmen nodded and followed after the soldiers. The Guardsmen Sato sighed again and grabbed his radio and motioned for the other Elite Guards to turn the volume on their radios down.
“EG9 to EG4.” There was a sigh on the radio.
“Go for EG4” Oginome’s voice answered solemnly.
“The targets 01 through 05 got away with two unknown individuals. EG11 has been instructed to supervise a pursuit after them.”
“10-4. Return to the warehouse, we will discuss further action.”
“EG9 copies.” Sato holstered his radio and screamed in frustration at the sky. He was so close. They were all so close. They had the turtles in their custody and Hamato Yoshi on the phone, ready to turn himself over. But it all slipped away so fast.
Who were those two people!? What did they have to do with any of this? Were they friends of Hamato Yoshi’s or a different entity entirely? How had they gotten in to begin with? What was he going to tell Master Shredder?
The Elite Guard pinched his brow and breathed through his anger again. Thoughts of Shredder’s disappointment flashed in his mind like a nightmare. He remembered the murderous mood Shredder had been in after hearing of Kawaharu’s failure with capturing one of the turtles. The only thing that saved him from being beaten within an inch of his life was the fact that Shredder was able to glean subtle information from Kawaharu’s report that ended up helping them tremendously.
Sato was fairly certain that unless he could come up with something like that, he was going to wish he was dead. He swallowed hard and looked to his comrades who were in similar states of near overwhelming anxiety and stress, trying to accept their potential deaths.
They all wondered if suicide would be better than whatever Shredder’s twisted mind would make them live through as punishment for this. They had failed so much worse than anyone perhaps ever could. The humiliation alone made seppuku feel like quite possibly a blessing.
“Alright, let us go back inside. We… can discuss what has happened and… what to do next before Master Shredder arrives.” Sato said grimly. “Let’s hope we can catch up to them or scrape together some clues about that man and woman we saw.”